


Paint Me As A Villain

by aomiens



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Ba Sing Se, Bending still exists!, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Humor, No Avatar (yet), Political Unrest, a few OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 08:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12837147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aomiens/pseuds/aomiens
Summary: She wants to help others any way she can. He wants to stop feeling like he's living a lie. They find solace in each other until the world starts to burn. Destiny has plans for them. They decide to carve their own paths.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea has been brewing in my head for months now and I had to get it out. I love thinking about how these characters would function in a modern world, and I love bending, so why not put them together!

The smell of chlorine permeates the air as Katara rings out the excess water in her curls. She sighs as she stands before a mirror in the changing room. She’s the last one to leave, as usual. Another day, another failed attempt at getting the coach to let her swim in the upcoming official match. What’s the point of practice then? Why was she accepted on the team if she can’t compete? She’s a damn good swimmer, waterbender or not. Which, for the record, she does _not_ bend while she swims. She doesn’t have to! She grew up around water, for goodness sakes! Swimming came as naturally to her as walking.

 _“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have chosen swimming as your extracurricular activity. You knew the repercussions it’d bring, being a waterbender and all.”_ Her coach’s voice echoes in her mind.

Katara slams her locker shut. 

 _It’s not fair._ She shoulders her bag and pushes the door open, the bolts squeaking after her departure. _It’s really not fair._

Once outside, Katara takes a deep breath and releases all of her festering negative feelings with an exhale. That’s a battle she’ll have to continue to fight another day. Right now, she has an upcoming quiz she needs to study for, a paper to outline, and she needs to read a few chapters in at least three of her many nursing textbooks, lest she fall behind.

The sun starts to sink in the sky as Katara makes her way across campus. As she walks she takes notice that BSSU is less crowded than usual. Probably due to it being a late Tuesday afternoon. Most people are either in class, napping in their dorms, or exploring the city with friends.

_Wow. A nap sounds amazing right now._

Before she has the chance to start daydreaming of how soft her pillows are, her phone chimes in her bag. She reaches in and pulls it out, waking up her screen to see what’s up.

She’s not surprised when she sees it’s a text from her brother.

_[4:46p Sokka] hey where r u_

_[4:48p] Walking back to my dorm. Just got out of swim practice_

_[4:49p Sokka] im hungry_

Katara chuckles down at her phone. When is Sokka ever _not_ hungry?

_[4:50p] The sky is blue_

_[4:51p Sokka] ur not funny_

_[4:52p Sokka] im really craving sea prune stew_

Ah, _there’s_ the reason he texted. Whenever Sokka is feeling homesick and wants a particular Water Tribe meal, he calls Katara. She’s tried to teach Suki how to make a few dishes, but according to Sokka they never taste the same even though the ingredients are identical. 

_[4:55p] I’m guessing you want me to come over_

_[4:56p Sokka] ur so smart!!!_

_[4:57p Sokka] see you soon :)_

Katara is about to throw her phone back in her bag when she remembers Toph. Would it be weird to bring her new roommate to her brother’s place so suddenly? Would Sokka and Aang be considerate and make good first impressions?

Who is she kidding, of course they won’t.

Still, she feels bad leaving Toph all by herself when it’s only her first week here. Katara _would_ like to make friends with her.

_[5:00p] Wait what about my roommate? You guys haven’t met her yet… Can I bring her?_

_[5:02p Sokka] yeah sure idc_

_[5:03p] Don’t embarrass me, Sokka_

_[5:04p Sokka] me?? embarrass you?? I’d never_

Katara rolls her eyes before inserting her keys into her door and entering her room.

The jingle of keys alerts Toph of her arrival. She lifts her head from clipping her toenails and directs her gaze in Katara’s general direction. “Hey.”

Maybe she won’t have to worry about good first impressions with Toph.

“Hi,” Katara replies, placing her bag on her bed. She pushes her hair behind her ears. “How was class?”

Toph shrugs. “Not bad. Kicked some guy’s ass in arm wrestling. He totally thought he was gonna win when he challenged me.” A toenail clipping goes flying. “Showed him.”

Katara makes a mental note to vacuum their floor later. “Wow. Be careful, Toph, not everyone is going to be as friendly as that guy.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Toph waves a hand dismissively. “Then they’ll _really_ get their ass kicked.”

“Hey.” Katara frowns at her roommate. “It’s your first week here. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

“I thought I left my mom at home but turns out she’s right across from me.” Toph scoffs and ducks her head down, her ebony bangs falling over her face.

Katara feels her cheeks warm. “I’m not trying to mother you!” She grimaces at the way her voice cracks at the end of her sentence. “I… I just— y’know what? Nevermind.” She sits down on the edge of her bed and pulls her flip-flops off. “Forget I said anything.”

“Relax.” Toph snickers. “I was just kidding.”

 “Yeah, I know,” Katara lies in an attempt to make the air feel less tense. The last thing she wants is for her roommate to feel as if she’s being _parented_. Oh gosh, no. Her brother’s invitation suddenly pops into her head. “Oh, by the way, my brother Sokka invited us over to his place. Would you want to come?”

She watches as Toph’s shoulders tense up ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t that be a bit awkward? I don’t wanna interrupt your sibling time or whatever…”

“No, of course not! He lives with a friend of ours, Aang, he’s really nice. Plus, I’m going over to cook so they’ll be food and stuff.”

Toph’s ears perk up at the mention of food. “Well, if you insist!”

Katara smiles. “Okay, great. Let’s head out in about 15 minutes, I want to get changed.” She reaches for the hem of her hoodie and is about to pull it up when she remembers Toph is sitting right there. She hesitates. “Um, do you mind if I change here?”

“If you’re worried about me seeing you in your underwear or something—” Toph gestures her hand back and forth across her face. “—I can’t.”

Now her cheeks are _really_ warm. “I know that— I, um…” She’s stammers, trying her best to salvage this terrible conversation. “I just wanted to make sure you knew…” Her words trail off into a shameful silence.

“You’re so easy.” Toph shakes her head and places her nail clippers on the end table next to her bed. “Let me know when you’re ready.” She lies back on her bed with her arms crossed behind her head.

“I will,” Katara affirms, rummaging through her drawer for a pair of jeans and an everyday t-shirt. There’s no reason to get dolled up just so she can get sea prune juice all over herself. She gets changed as quickly as she can before she grabs her comb and pulls it through her hair, removing the tangles and knots that developed when it was wet.  Once she’s satisfied, she brings her hair over her shoulder and begins to braid it. It’s a quick and effortless twist of her fingers, the motion of braiding engrained in her hands after years of doing it. She doesn't even need a mirror. “Okay.” She removes her phone from her bag and slips it in her back pocket. “I’m ready.”

Toph sits up. “That was fast.” She slips on her sandals.

“It's better if we don’t keep Sokka waiting. He’s super grumpy when he’s hungry.”

“Ha! That makes both of us.”

Katara holds the door open for Toph and locks it after they’re both out in the hallway. Since they’re only on the second floor, they take the stairs down to the side exit and just that fast they’re outside.

They walk side by side across the dormitory courtyard and pass through campus, strolling by a small group of student passengers in front of the main hall.

“Save the endangered otter-penguins!” One protestor shouts.

“Ban industrial fishing in the Southern Ocean!” Another protestor yells.

“Protect the air! Protect the water! Protect the earth! Protect the world!” The group of six people chant together, raising their poorly made signs in unity.

“Aw…” Katara watches the group from a distance as they walk by. “That’s nice of them to raise awareness.”

“Aren’t there bigger problems to be concerned about?” Toph sounds peeved. “An endangered breed of bird from the South Pole seems a little low on the list of world problems.”

“Wow, Toph, when’d you get so political?” Katara smirks and nudges her roommate.

“Shut up.” Toph elbows Katara back. Unfortunately, not with the same gentleness.

Sokka’s place is located right on the edge of campus, so as soon as they reach the sidewalk leading into the city, they arrive at his house.

Katara places a hand on Toph’s shoulder. “We’re here. He’s right up these steps.” They climb up the short flight of squeaky wooden steps and stand at the door. Before she knocks, she turns to Toph. “Just a heads up, our friend has a _huge_ dog and he gets really excited when meeting new people.”

Toph crosses her arms. “I’m not scared of dogs.”

“I was just warning you…” Katara raps her fingers against the front door in the unique way Sokka told her to so he always knows it’s her.

Moments later, the door flies open and Appa’s large paws are on Katara’s chest as he licks her face.

“Hi, Appa!” Katara rustles the long white fur around his face. “How are you buddy?”

Appa eagerly wags his tail and jumps from Katara to Toph, now invading _her_ personal space with sniffs and licks.

“Whoa—!” Toph exclaims and takes a step backwards to regain her balance.

“Hey! Appa! C’mere, boy! Relax!” Aang is suddenly pulling the dog back by wrapping his arms around Appa’s torso. You can barely see the boy behind Appa’s massive size and thick fur. He releases his grip once Appa has calmed down. “Sorry about that!” He apologizes.

Katara laughs. “It’s okay, Aang. How are you?” She reaches out to hug him and he returns the gesture immediately, his eagerness matching Appa’s.

“I’m good!” He flashes his adorable beam at her. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Katara smiles back. “I want to introduce you to my roommate, Toph.” Katara steps to the side so Toph can be seen in full view. “She transferred in last week.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Aang.” Aang reaches out his hand for Toph to shake.

“Hey,” Toph replies, her hands warm in her pockets.

Katara covers Aang’s hand with her own and shakes her head, giving Aang a _‘that’s not a good idea’_ look.

It takes a few seconds for Aang to understand, but once his eyes settle on Toph’s cloudy gaze, his mouth forms a small ‘o’ and he drops his hand.

“Are you guys gonna talk out there forever?!” Sokka yells from somewhere inside the house.

Katara rolls her eyes. “Come on, Toph.” She moves past Aang and enters.

“Watch your step,” Aang warns as Toph follows her through the front door.

To no one’s shock, Sokka is in the living room, sprawled across the couch watching some television show where they play clips of people doing stupid stunts and failing miserably.

“Hello to you too, Sokka.” Katara leans over the back of the couch and flicks her brother on his forehead.

“What was that for?” Sokka rubs at the spot.

“For thinking I’m your personal chef. I have other things to do!”

“But here you are.”

Katara lifts her nose in the air. “I'm here because I haven’t seen Aang in a while. _Not_ because you’re hungry.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Sokka lifts his head off the armrest. “Where’s your roommate?”

“In the kitchen with Aang. Come and say hello at some point tonight.” Katara turns on her heel and walks into the kitchen.

“Yup, gotcha,” Sokka mumbles after her departure.

Katara smiles when she sees Toph seated at the small table by the window and Aang by the sink, fetching a glass of water.

“Katara, when were you gonna tell me your new roommate is a Beifong?” Aang says, shutting off the tap.

“I didn’t think it was super important,” Katara answers, pulling pots out of a nearby cabinet.

“What? The Beifongs are one of the most powerful families in the Earth Kingdom!” Aang places the glass of water in front of Toph’s fingertips. “You own, like, half of this university, right?

“ _I_ don’t, my family does.” Toph wraps her fingers around the glass. “That’s why I’m here. Another way they can keep tabs on me.”

Aang raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Toph sighs. “My parents wanted me to be an obedient little girl and sit underneath them all day, but I wasn’t going to be the helpless blind kid they thought I was.” Toph shrugs. “So I snuck out. A lot.”

“Where’d you go?” Aang asks, intensely interested.

“My parents didn’t know at the time, but I’m an earthbender. I wanted to learn without them knowing, so I went to these underground fighting rings.”

“ _What_? How old were you?” Katara questions, her voice laced with disbelief.

Toph takes a sip of water. “Uh, I started when I was twelve? I think.”

Aang’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “You learned how to earthbend by fighting people twice your age and three times your size? That’s insane!”

“I can’t believe people actually agreed to fight a _child_.” Katara frowns. She washes off the sea prunes in the sink while the water boils on the stove. “That’s terrible.”

“I never got hurt. For a bunch of seedy wrestlers, they were pretty nice. Taught me a lot. At the end of the day they were just trying to make a living.”

“What happened?” Aang rests his chin in his palm. “You have to have stopped fighting since you’re here.”

“Yeah, I did stop. I got caught last year.” Toph traces the rim of the glass with her finger. “I got careless one night and a family friend saw me. They told my parents and from that day on, I wasn’t allowed to use the bathroom without someone walking me there and back.” Toph sighs again. “I had a good run though. Lasted three years.”

“You were fifteen when you were caught?” Aang asks.

“Yup.”

“So, wait… You’re sixteen?!” Aang’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Yup.” Toph looks unbothered.

“You hear that, Katara? I’m not the youngest one here anymore!” Aang nearly falls out of his chair, twisting his body so he can glance at Katara.

“That’s nice, Aang,” Katara answers with her default response, too focused in getting the flavor right for the stew.

“I’m guessing your parents pulled some strings to get you in two years early.” Aang reverts his attention to Toph.

“This was their way of granting me ‘ _freedom_.’” Toph makes air quotes with her fingers. “Ship me off to a place where I can be by myself, but they can get whatever information they need on me at any time.”

Aang’s lips tug downward. “Wow. That’s kinda sad.”

“Could be worse.” Toph shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. “Anyway, enough about me. What’s up with you? I only know your name.”

“Oh! Okay! Well, uh, my name is Aang, but you know that already.”

“Yeah, I just said I did!”

“ _Uhhh_!” Aang panics, racking his brain for basic facts about himself. “I’m eighteen and I’m a sophomore and I like to skateboard and I have a dog named Appa and a lemur-cat named Momo, and, uh…” He bounces his leg up and down, still thinking.

“He’s also an airbender and was raised by air acolytes.” Katara adds, gathering four bowls.

“There we go! Now _that’s_ interesting,” Toph says. “I didn’t know air acolytes were still around. Were you raised in a temple? Were there monks? Were you thrown off the side of a cliff as a baby to learn how to airbend?”

“What? No.” Aang makes an uncomfortable face. “Do people actually think that?”

“Those are all things I heard growing up. Not a lot is known about traditional Air Nomad culture.”

“Well, the cliff thing is _not_ true,” he assures. “I grew up in a village, not a temple. All of the original Air Nomad temples are hundreds of years old and aren’t very safe to live in anymore. There weren’t any monks. No one really practices monkhood anymore, it’s a bit old-fashioned.”

Katara makes her way over with two steaming bowls of stew. She places one in front of Toph. “Aang does shave his head, though.”

“It helps with airbending. Aerodynamic,” he explains as he runs his hand over his head. “Plus, it’s common in our culture.”

“And he has a tattoo.” Katara sets the second bowl in front of Aang. “Tell her, Aang.”

“Uh, well, it’s a blue arrow that starts from my back and goes to my forehead. Airbenders would get five arrows tattooed from their back to their head, their arms to their hands, and their legs to their feet to signify their mastery in the element. They’re earned through _years_ and _years_ of airbending practice. I’ve been interested in getting mine since I was a kid but I had to be taught the importance of the tattoos first. _Then,_ I had to master hundreds of airbending forms and techniques. It took me ten years of intense training to even be considered for my tattoo.”

“What about the tattoos on your arms and feet?” Toph asks. “You said you only have one on your head.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Waiting on Katara to accept his marriage proposal so they can run away together.” All of a sudden Sokka is standing before them with a bowl of stew in his hands, noodles hanging from his mouth.

Aang spits out the little sea prune strew he had tasted and starts coughing uncontrollably. Katara rushes to his side and pats his back. “Are you okay, Aang?” She shoots an unpleasant glare at Sokka. “Don’t joke like that!”

“It’s true. That’s why he’s eating your stew even though he hates it.”

 “I don’t hate it!” Aang shouts, his face red.

“You don’t like sea prune stew?” Katara asks. “I even added noodles this time…”

“No, I like it! It tastes great!” Aang reassures her. He picks up his chopsticks and shoves two sea prunes in his mouth. “Mmmmm!” He hums a little too enthusiastically.

“Then how come earlier when I told you Katara was coming over to make it, you stuck out your tongue and said, ‘ _Yuck, I don’t know how you guys eat that stuff._ ’?” Sokka gives his voice an annoying whine when imitating Aang.

“ _I’b dun know wut yur talbing aboub,_ ” Aang slurs, his cheeks bulging as he stuffs them with noodles and sea prunes.

Sokka sneers at Aang’s obvious (and terrible) attempts to convince Katara otherwise.

Toph cracks up from her seat. “This guy is hilarious. He must be Sokka, right?”

Sokka puffs out his chest a little and smirks. “The one and only.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Toph.”

“I like you, Toph. You appreciate good humor.”

“Oh, please,” Katara groans. “Don’t feed his already annoyingly large ego.”

Sokka noisily slurps up some noodles and broth. “It’s called having a personality,” he says as he chews. “You should try getting one someday.”

Katara scrunches up her nose. “And you should try eating like a human being.”

Toph whispers while the siblings bicker, “Are they always like this?”

“Yeah.” Aang nods. “You get used to it.”

A loud burp escapes from Sokka’s mouth.

“That’s gross, Sokka!” Katara pushes his shoulder. “Have some decency, Toph is here.”

Another burp comes from across the table. Three heads turn to Toph, but she continues to eat her stew, unfazed.

Aang and Sokka erupt in a fit of laughter. Katara rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she can’t fight the small smile that grows on her lips.

She has a feeling nights like these will become much more common between the four of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking my own liberties with canon information and such, so bear with me! Things will make more sense as we delve deeper into the plot. If you want to chat, reach out to me on my Tumblr [99mb.tumblr.com] I'm friendly, I swear! Comments and kudos are appreciated <3 Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you guys for your support on the first chapter! The comments I got here and on Tumblr were so sweet. Anyhow, on to the second chapter!

It was midafternoon when Azula called.  

“Hello?” Zuko answered. He had just finished the lunch rush and was on break during his shift at his uncle’s tea shop, Jasmine Dragon.

“Hello, Zuzu,” Azula said, her tone smooth but mischievous.

His blood ran cold.

No one but his sister ever called him that terrible nickname. The demeaning way she said it and the malice behind her voice made him hate it.

“Azula,” he said, forcing himself to sound casual and relaxed while his mind was the exact opposite, generating hundreds of questions – _Why is she calling? What does she want from me? What did I do wrong?_ – to which he had no answer. He steadied his suddenly shaky voice. “What do you want?”

“That’s no way to greet your sister. Why can’t I call and have a nice chat with my big brother?”

Zuko scoffed. _That’s hilarious_. “You haven’t called me in the three years I’ve been away.” He leaned back in his chair. “Why would you start now?”

“Don’t be upset. I was busy with my obligations and you were busy doing whatever it is you do.”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s been a bit hectic over here ever since you left. Father has me attending every affair and event to keep up appearances.” Azula spoke with a hint of reproach hidden in her accent. She sighed dramatically. “You understand why I haven’t been able to call, right?”

And there it was. The guilt that Azula made Zuko feel so easily for things he had no control over came flooding back that instant. Ever since he left? He did not leave his country, his home, his life, the only things he ever knew, _willingly_. He was humiliated by his own father then kicked out and sent off to the Earth Kingdom to live with his uncle so he could hide away from the press and scrutinizing eyes.

Not like that stopped people from talking.

Zuko slowly exhaled through his nose. Thinking about his father and sister was wearing his patience thin. “What do you _want_ , Azula? I’m at work, I don’t have all day.”

“Wow, Father really did cut you off from the funds. Must suck.”

“Thanks for your concern but I’m fine.”

“Are you working with Uncle? In his… store?” Azula asked with uncertainty.

“Tea shop,” Zuko corrected. “And yes. Why do you care?”

“Because you can quit.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I’m transferring to Ba Sing Se University next week.”

Zuko leapt out of his chair. “ _What?!_ ” he shouted, unable to control the volume of his voice.

“Father bought an apartment in the city not too far from the university, near the Upper Ring. We’ll live there together once I arrive in Ba Sing Se. You’ll get your allowances back as well. No more living in squalor with our weird, tea-loving uncle.” The contempt in Azula’s voice is not hidden when she speaks about Iroh.

“I…” Zuko trailed off. His brain was moving faster than his mouth as he tried to make sense of the situation his sister just laid out for him. She was coming to Ba Sing Se? They were going to live together? Go to school together?

 _This can’t be true,_ his mind tried to reassure him. _Azula always lies._

“I… I don’t understand,” he managed to say. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“Why would I waste my precious energy joking about a topic as boring as this?”

“Don’t you go to school in Caldera? Why would you come _here_?” He was going to break her. He knew she had ulterior motives and he was going to figure out what they were.

“My personal tutors all agree that BSSU is a great school. Having the Fire Nation prince and princess attend school in the Earth Kingdom will strengthen the ties between the two nations. Besides, it looks good for the royal family to have well-traveled children who are also culturally aware. Where else is better to gain that experience than the largest city in the world?” Azula said in a matter-of-fact manner, cleverly and articulately placing down her chess pieces in the mind game Zuko was playing with her.

Or, _tried_ playing with her, rather.

He had no rebuttal.

“It’s a game of politics, Zuzu. Don’t take it personal.” He could hear his sister smirk through the phone. His grip tightened on his cell. “Trust me, I don’t really want to go. I have it made here at home.”

“Then stay there.”   

“Aw, but I miss you. There’s no one here to bother,” Azula teased.

Zuko mumbled something under his breath.

Azula’s voice softened. “I know Father told you to stay under the radar, but you don’t have to hide anymore. He’s sorry for what he did.”

Zuko’s heart stopped. “He said that?”

“Of course. He wants to make things right again.”

_Father is sorry?_

**_No_** _, don’t get your hopes up. You’ve been down this road before. There’s no way he’s sorry, he never even reached out to me. He couldn’t care less about what happened to me._

_But I don’t need his forgiveness. I need my life back. That’s what I’ve been wanting this entire time._

Frustrated, he ran a hand down his face. He really did not need the inner conflict at the moment. He shouldn’t be so distracted at work.

Pushing the hair away from his forehead, he said, “I have to go” with a strained voice.

“Okay, I’ll text you the details. See you in a week, Zuzu.”

He hung up first and tossed his cell on the desk. Dropping down on the rickety chair, he buried his head into his hands.

Without warning, the door swung open and Iroh bustled in, his apron crooked across his torso. 

“We suddenly got a catering order for five different types of tea—” he stopped once he saw how dejected Zuko looked. “Nephew, what’s wrong?”

Zuko lifted his head but kept his golden eyes downcast. “Azula just called me.”

\---

The apartment is huge.

The view of Ba Sing Se from the sixteenth floor isn’t so bad, either.

Floor-to-ceiling windows line the perimeter of the lounge and flood the spacious area with the city’s afternoon sun. The footsteps of the movers arranging and unboxing Azula’s numerous pieces of furniture echoes throughout the empty space.

Zuko watches them with his arms crossed, standing in front of the granite counters of the open kitchen.

He’s really doing this.

“This is way better than your uncle’s drab place.” His girlfriend’s monotone statement grabs his attention. Mai is walking out of his room—which is located towards the front of the apartment—and picking lint off of her black sweater.

Zuko shoots her a vexed glare.

She glances up at him. “What?” She sniffs. “It’s true.”

“ _Mai!_ ” Azula calls from down the hall. “Come help me arrange my room.”

“Coming,” Mai responds, immediately turning on her heel and leaving Zuko by himself.

He sighs and presses his back against the wall. Not one bit of his current situation feels real. Maybe if he pinches himself hard enough, he’ll wake up a week back in time, sitting in the back room of the Jasmine Dragon with the phone call between him and Azula nothing but a twisted fantasy.

The conversation he had with his uncle the night he decided he was going to live with Azula flashes through his mind.

 

_“I’m going to do it,” Zuko said once he dried the last saucer and laid it atop a stack. The dishes clink as they fall into place._

_“Do what?” Iroh asked with feigned naiveté, sweeping the kitchen floor. Zuko knew that his uncle knew what he was talking about. He just wanted to hear him say it._

_So he was going to say it._

_“I’m going to move in with Azula.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue._

_Iroh said nothing. He merely continued to sweep._

_The silence was killing him._

_“Say something, Uncle,” Zuko pleaded, his voice rasping._

_“There is nothing for me to say, Prince Zuko. You are a wise young man. My opinion on the matter should not sway yours. Nor should anyone else’s.” He held the broom still and looked him straight in his eyes. “I only hope that this is_ **your** _decision, and not someone else’s.”_

_Zuko nodded. “This is my decision.”_

_Iroh smiled. “That’s good, my nephew. Now, help me decide the tea of the day for tomorrow.” He stroked his beard contemplatively. “Ginseng or Lychee?”_

 

He develops goosebumps when he thinks of his uncle’s unyielding stare. He can recall only a few occasions where he’s looked so serious.

It wouldn’t surprise him if his uncle thought Azula had somehow manipulated her way into his head and got him to agree on housing together. Then again, he wouldn’t blame him. Azula can twist _anyone_ around her finger. It’s one of her many talents.

However, Zuko knows to expect deceitful behavior from his sister. He grew up exposed to her trickery and he’s grown fairly numb to the dishonesty. It’s like he says, Azula _always_ lies.

But she didn’t lie this time. She’s here at BSSU. He’s here in their new apartment. The number in his bank account is more than three digits and he can walk outside without feeling like he has to wear a cap to cover his face.  

For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel like a complete failure.

 _This is what you wanted for the past three years,_ he tells himself. _I got everything I lost back._

The left side of his face twitches.

Well, maybe not everything.

Zuko pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He frowns. He didn’t realize how late it’s getting _._ He should leave soon if he wants to be on time to his evening shift at the tea shop.

He pushes himself off the wall and starts to walk towards his room.

“Where are you going?” Azula’s accusatory tone stops him before he makes it to his door. She emerges from the hallway with Mai by her side.

Zuko raises an eyebrow. “Work?” The rising intonation in his voice makes the word sound like a question instead of a statement.

“Do you not remember what I said?” she asks, giving him an _‘are you serious?’_ look. “You. Can. _Quit_ ,” she says slowly, taking her time to enunciate each word as if he didn’t understand her the first time.

Zuko wears a weary expression. “I’m not going to quit without a reason, Azula.”

“You _do_ have a reason.” She crosses her arms and lifts a shoulder in nonchalance. “You’re rich again. You don’t have to work for petty change anymore.”

He narrows his eyes. “I don’t do it for the money.” He sheepishly glances off to the side. “Uncle let me stay with him. The least I can do is help him out with his shop.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “He wasn’t going to leave you out on the street.”

“He could’ve!” Zuko exclaims, spreading his arms. They haven’t been in the apartment for a day but his sister has already aggravated him to the point where he wants to leave before they _truly_ start arguing.

Azula mutters, “Agni, I did _not_ miss your dramatics.” Her voice is low but still intentionally perceivable.

Zuko clenches his jaw. _Don’t fall into her trap. You know better._

She lets out an annoyed sigh before turning to Mai. “How do you deal with him?”

Mai shrugs as her eyes dart over Zuko’s form, something akin to a smirk playing on her lips. “He’s cute.”

“ _Ugh_.” Azula makes a face. “Gross.”

Zuko snorts a laugh.

“Anyway.” Azula saunters over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and watches over the sprawling city. “I wanted to go out for a celebratory dinner, but never mind since you’re going to be boiling hot water all night.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

She looks over her shoulder with a confident smile. “My arrival, of course.”

He scoffs. “I don’t want to celebrate that.”

Azula grins slyly and turns her head back to the window. “Hm,” she hums. “Then how about we celebrate Father forgiving you and salvaging your name from utter disgrace? That sounds pretty worthy of a celebration, don’t you think?”

A deep, tired breath blows past his lips. “You know what?” Zuko takes a step back and heads into his room with a determined stride. He pockets the small box of cigarettes on his desk and marches to the front door. “I’m leaving.”

“Aw, don’t get mad, Zuzu,” Azula coos as she watches him go. “I was only kidding.”

He knows she wasn’t kidding.

He grabs his keys off the counter. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Azula tuts at his impulsive departure. “You’re not going to say goodbye? How rude.”

“Bye, Mai,” he says before stalking out of the apartment and shutting the door behind him. Once he’s on the other side, he lets out an exasperated groan.

_She’s going to drive me mad._

The elevator dings after he presses the button to go down. When the doors slide open a middle-aged man in a suit appears.

Zuko says nothing as he steps in beside him. He checks to see if the ground floor button is pressed before stuffing his hands in his pockets. The doors close moments later.

_Maybe this was a mistake._

What was he thinking when he agreed to this? It’s been three years since he’s lived with Azula but aside from her physical appearance, she hasn’t changed at all. She’s still the same insufferable little sister who loves to belittle him any chance she gets.

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors glide open to reveal the lavish lobby. Zuko steps out first and heads straight for the entrance, nodding at the doorman when he opens the glass door to let him out.

After a van whizzes past him, he jogs across the street and heads for the parking lot. As he approaches his car, he stops a few paces away and pulls out the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He shakes one out, situates it between his lips, and cups his hands around it, creating a small flame in his palm to light the end.

His muscles loosen the minute he inhales, the stressed energy melting off of him in waves.

On a night two years ago, Mai gave him his first cigarette. It’s been a coping mechanism for stress ever since.

 _What if I said no?_ he ponders, scuffing his shoe against the asphalt as he exhales white wisps of smoke into the air. _What would have happened?_

One, he’d still be sleeping on the couch in his uncle’s living room. Two, he’d be imposing on his uncle and that’s the last thing he wants to do. He was never meant to live with him forever.

Furthermore, this is a rare benevolent offering from his father. He’d be a fool if he didn’t take advantage of it. So what if his father only wants to save face? Who knows when—or if—he’ll ever see a moment like this again.

In the end, it works out for everyone.

\---

The final customer of the day joyfully skips out of the Jasmine Dragon with a free box of leftover mochi, courtesy of Jin.

Zuko locks the door behind the guest and flips the ‘ _open’_ sign to ‘ _closed’_ , officially signaling the end of business hours.

He walks back to the counter and grabs a rag and spray bottle from the cabinet under the sink. “That was nice of you,” he says to Jin, who is counting the cash from the register’s till.

It takes a minute for Jin to respond as she swiftly tallies each bill, soundlessly mouthing the number to herself. Once she’s finished, she returns the money to the till and closes it shut with her hip. “I felt bad,” she says, replying to Zuko’s comment. “She was sitting by herself.”

Zuko sprays one of the small round tables with sanitizer and wipes it dry with a rag. “What if she expects free food every time she comes in now?”

Jin blanches. “Wait. I didn’t think about that!” Both of her hands fly up to cup her face as her cheeks redden with embarrassment. “Oh gosh, what do I tell her when she comes back?”

Turns out she did not catch the sarcastic tone of Zuko’s voice.

“Jin,” he says, making a ‘ _calm down’_ gesture with his hand, “I was joking.”

“Huh?” She blinks. “You weren’t serious?”

He shakes his head and moves to the next table. “Nope.”

“Oh.” She deflates. “So, Iroh won’t be mad I gave food away?”

He almost snickers at the irony. “No way. He does the same thing.” He wipes the last table clean. “We’d be out of business if I didn’t stop him from giving away stuff for free.”

Jin giggles. “That’s sweet of him.”

“Not sweet for his wallet.” Zuko balls up the rag in his fist and aims it towards Jin. “Catch.”

Jin holds up her hands in preparation and grabs the rag out of the air when Zuko tosses it to her. “Woo!” she cheers when she catches it. Her eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. “Hey, Zuko.”

Restocking the sugar, his head jerks up at the mention of his name.

“Why are you still here?” Jin asks.

He furrows his brow, confused at how she could possibly know about his situation with his family.

She must have mistaken the puzzled expression on his face for anger, because she starts waving her hands as if she’s trying to placate him. “I- I don’t mean it like that!” she sputters. “I mean, your shift ended, like, fifteen minutes ago…”

Zuko opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. _She means my shift. Right._ “Um,” he manages to utter. “I didn’t want you to close by yourself.”

Jin places her hands on her hips in a fierce stance. “I’m fully capable of closing the shop by myself!”

“I know, I know,” he reassures her. “I wasn’t trying to be offensive. I just meant everything will get done faster if I help.”

“I’m not alone, Iroh is here!” Jin says, pointing to the curtain separating the shop from the kitchen. “He’s helping!”

“He might help you at first, but then he’ll start talking to you about the tsungi horn and you’ll be stuck here for hours, listening to him reminisce about his glory days.” Zuko rests his hands behind his back the same way his uncle does and paces back and forth. Lowering the pitch of his voice, he imitates Iroh’s leisurely manner of speaking. “There is a traditional charm the tsungi horn has that other instruments cannot seem to capture.” He lifts a finger. “Did you know I played the tsungi horn in a band once? We called ourselves _The Fire Flakes_.”

Jin suppresses her laugh with her hand, in near hysterics at Zuko’s impersonation. “That’s hilarious.” She wipes at her eyes, still chuckling. “Was he really in a band?”

“Yup,” he confirms, dropping the impression. “As you can tell—” He moves his arm in a sweeping motion around the shop. “—they didn’t do too well.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Probably because they were named after a Fire Nation snack.”

At that moment, the curtains are pushed apart and Iroh appears behind the counter next to Jin. He’s drying his wet hands with a towel when his eyes land on Zuko. “Nephew!” he says with surprise. “You’re still here.”

“I let him know his shift was over, Iroh, but he just won’t leave,” Jin jokes.

“I wanted to help close.” Zuko picks up a chair and flips it, setting it upside down on the table. He begins to do the same to all the chairs around the shop.

“He must want overtime,” Iroh says in a stage whisper to Jin. She nods her head.

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Uncle.”

“I told him I can close by myself.” Now it’s Jin’s turn to whisper to Iroh. “I’m trustworthy, aren’t I?”

“It is not a matter of trust. No one has ever closed the shop besides him and I. He must feel threatened.”

“ _Ohhh_ ,” Jin gapes. “Maybe—”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Zuko interrupts his uncle and Jin’s teasing conversation, not wanting to hear anymore. He unties the knot on his apron and pulls it over his head. “I’ll go.” He hangs the apron up on the hooks next to the kitchen curtain.

“Here. Take this with you.” Iroh disappears into the kitchen and reappears with a small, round, wooden box. He presses the container into Zuko’s outreached hands. “Share them.” Iroh gives Zuko a look that he immediately interprets, no words needed.

_Share with Azula._

A twinge of melancholy spreads throughout his body. He nods his head. “Thank you, Uncle. I will.”

“Now go get some rest.” Iroh gently pushes Zuko towards the door. “Jin and I will be fine.”

“Goodnight, Zuko!” Jin calls after him.

“Night,” he says, letting the door swing shut. He stands on the sidewalk with the wooden container warming his hands, watching through the glass as his uncle speaks to Jin, creating the outline of something in the air with hands…

He’s talking about the tsungi horn.

Zuko laughs inwardly. He warned her.

 

The car ride is lonely—seeing as he’s used to leaving the Jasmine Dragon with his uncle by his side—and he’s left alone with his thoughts for longer than he feels comfortable, so when his apartment building comes into view he cannot park his car fast enough, eager to get out and pass out in his room.

All of the lights are off when Zuko enters the apartment. Everything is eerily quiet as he steps around, placing the box Iroh gave him on the counter. He notices the movers set up the furniture in the longue. From what he can make out in the dark, two black modern couches face each other whilst a glass coffee table stands in the middle. More contemporary furniture is scattered about—lamps and sculptures and fake plants decorate the space, bringing everything together. A complete one-eighty from his uncle’s smaller, less lavish living room.

But Zuko won’t lie. It looks good.

His train of thought is disrupted when the front door opens and Azula and Mai stroll in, their heels clicking against the hardwood flooring.

Azula flips a switch and suddenly the apartment is bathed in light. Zuko squints his eyes.

“Zuko.” Mai detects him first. Their attire is completely different from what they were wearing when he left for work.

“Zuzu!” Azula exclaims, walking over to him. “Why were you standing in the dark, you weirdo?” She laughs lightly and then gasps, shoving him to the side to grab the wooden container on the counter. “What are these?”

The faint smell of alcohol wafts by him. “I don't know,” he says, annoyed at her aggression. “Uncle gave them to me.”

Azula doesn’t ask for permission, she just pulls the top off and gasps even louder. “Bao!” She picks one up and takes a bite.

“Yes, Azula, you can have one,” Zuko says sarcastically, reaching over her and taking one for himself.

“Shut up,” she responds, chewing. “Mmm, they’re spicy just like the ones from home.”

He holds the box out for Mai to take one then says, “How was dinner?”

“Not bad. We met up with Ty Lee. Ate. Drank.” Azula finishes off her bao bun. “The food here isn’t as good as the food from home, though. It’s a shame,” she complains. “I should’ve brought one of our chefs with me. We’d get an authentic Fire Nation dinner every night.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t,” Zuko says.

“It’s not like I can’t have one shipped over.”

“Shipped?” he repeats, incredulous. “Will they be delivered in a package?”

She gives him a sidelong glance. “You know what I mean.”

He snorts. “Ty Lee didn’t come back with you guys?”

“No, she kept whining about having an early class tomorrow so she left after dinner,” Azula supplies.

“Yeah, I have an early class too, actually. And a paper to finish.” He straightens up from his relaxed stance. “I should head in for the night.”

Azula makes a noise of remembrance. “Wait. I have something for you.” She walks past him and into the hallway, crossing the threshold into her room.

Zuko looks to Mai for an answer.

Mai shrugs.

A few seconds later, Azula returns with a semi-large black box. She sets it down in front of Zuko. “Father told me to give you this.”

His heart skips a beat. “What is it?”   

“Open it and find out,” she tells him.

He bends down, lifts the lid off, and places it to the side. His heart leaps into his throat when he realizes what he’s looking at. His ceremonial robes are neatly folded at the bottom, deep crimson in color with gold thread trimming the sleeves and collar. His coronet rests on top. He picks it up and it glints in the light. It’s a little heavy in his hands as he fingers the flame-like shapes and various rubies that circle around it. He almost misses the two velvet boxes in the midst of it all. His father’s coronation medal is cushioned by silk in one box, and his grandfather’s golden jubilee medal in the other.      

It’s been three years since he’s seen this stuff, and if he’s being honest with himself, he forgot how the robes feel on his skin and the weight of the coronet on his head. He didn't think he’d get the chance to remember for a long time.

Now they’re here in front of him.

His head starts to throb.

Azula watches him with a smug expression. “Told you I wasn’t lying.”

Zuko swallows, not really paying attention to his sister. “I’m. Uh.” He stands up. “I’m going to put this in my room.”

“’Kay. Night.” Azula walks to her room while Zuko walks to his, box in his arms with Mai trailing behind him.

He slides his closet door to the left and situates the box of his royal garments on the floor, pushing it against the farthest corner. He slides the door back and breathes a sigh. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Why’d you do that?” Mai asks, sitting on his bed.

Zuko rubs at his face. “I can’t deal with that right now.” His words are muffled behind his hands. “Brings up too many unwanted feelings.”

Mai says nothing.

The mood is heavy so he decides to change the topic. He eyes Mai as he takes a seat next to her. “What’s with the outfit?”

She’s wearing a long-sleeved black dress that stops mid-thigh and a black pair of over-the-knee boots, leaving just a sliver of skin. She brushes her long, jet-black hair over her shoulders. “Azula wanted to dress up.”

“You look nice.” He leans in, urgently wanting a distraction.

A small smile. “I know.” She leans in as well and they only share a brief kiss before Mai pulls away. “You smell like oolong.”

Zuko heaves a sigh. “Yeah, I should probably shower.” He goes to stand up but Mai wraps her fingers around his arm to stop him. He gazes at her.

“Let’s go for a smoke, first,” she says.

He frowns. “You know I’m trying to quit, Mai.”

Her expression darkens. “I saw the cigarettes in your pocket earlier.”

He stills. _Of course Mai saw._

For someone who looks like she doesn't care about anything, she’s insanely observant.

“That was different.” He avoids her eyes. “Azula stressed me out.”

“You still looked stressed,” she points out.

“Yeah, well.” He drops his chin to his chest and massages his neck. “It's more exhaustion than anything else right now,” he mumbles tiredly.  

“Come on.” Mai stands up and brushes her fingers against his jaw. She angles his face up so he’s looking at her, her nails sharp against his skin. “Five minutes.”

A hesitant pause. Zuko gets to his feet. “All right.”

One more can’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the two introductory chapters are done, we can move into ~plot territory~ 
> 
> I want to thank the awesome ML8991 for helping me out and listening to me talk in circles. 
> 
> And I want to thank _you_ for reading! Things are just getting started  >:) See you next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey.”

Katara murmurs incoherently.

“Hey, wake up, sleepyhead.”

Toph rouses Katara from her sleep with a shoulder shake that turns into something more like a shove.

Katara’s head lolls back and forth before she jolts up with her hair sticking up in the back. “What time is it?” she asks, sleepily rubbing at her half-lidded eyes.

“I’m assuming it’s 9:15 a.m.,” Toph says. “That’s the time my alarm wakes me up.”

Katara’s eyes widen. “ _Shit!_ ” she exclaims, finally taking in her surroundings. Her books are scattered across her bed, her blanket hidden beneath crumbled notebook papers and open binders. She sits in the middle of it all, her left arm throbbing and indented from being pressed against a spiral bound notebook for who knows how long.

It’s only the second week of the semester and already she’s fallen asleep while studying.

Oh boy.

“No, no, no.” Katara springs out of bed, a little disoriented from getting up so suddenly. She runs a hand down the back of her head in an attempt to smoothen her unruly hair. “I can’t be late.”

“When’s your class?” Toph asks after a yawn.

“9:30!” Katara cries, making haste around the room, opening every drawer and grabbing the first decent shirt she sees. She pulls her current pajama shirt over her head but her arms get stuck in the sleeves as she stumbles over her bathing suit, strewn on the floor from her frantic search through her dresser. Regaining her balance, she throws her current shirt on her bed and replaces it with a stripped t-shirt. She switches her pajama pants for a skirt and combs her fingers through her hair, letting her fingers do the work of a comb to get all the tangles out before she braids it in record time.

Toph stretches an arm above her head. “So what if you’re late? It’s only the second week.”

Katara rushes into their shared bathroom. “That excuse only works for freshmen!” Her voice echoes from the bathroom. She hurriedly washes her face and brushes her teeth, running back out to pack her bookbag.

 _Books, notebooks, pens_ , she counts off the items in her head, stuffing them in her bag as fast as she can.

“Oh,” says Toph. She falls backwards on her bed, her legs swinging off the side. “Good to know.”

Katara steals a glance at her relaxed roommate. “Do you have class today?”

“Yeah, at 10.”

“Toph!” Katara exclaims. “You should be getting ready!”

Toph waves a hand dismissively. “I'm gonna use my ‘sorry I'm a freshman’ excuse today.”

Katara shakes her head and slides her bookbag on her shoulders. A nagging forgetful feeling develops in the back of her mind as she bends down to lace her shoes.

 _What am I forgetting?_ she thinks, biting her lip in concentration. _Cellphone? No, I have that. Wallet? No, that's in my bag._

Then it hits her.

_My necklace!_

She stands up and opens the drawer in her nightstand. Her necklace is there, the pendant winking in the sudden exposure to light. She picks it up and wraps it around her bare neck. The weight of the necklace is comfortable to her - reminds her of home. There hasn't been a day where she's gone without it.

“Okay, I'm leaving,” she says to Toph, reaching for the door. “I'll see you later.”

“See ya,” Toph says, her eyes closed as if she's about to fall asleep.

“Go to class!” Katara calls from the hall as she shuts the door. Instead of waiting for the elevator she bolts down the stairs and breaks into a half-walk-half-jog across the student courtyard and campus.

She's thankful that the building her class is located in isn't too far from her dorm as she arrives at the front doors—a feat that only took her about ten minutes. She allows herself a few seconds to catch her breath and calm down—the haste of the morning has her looking slightly disheveled—then opens the door, walking in.

The building is almost vacant, most students already in class by now. Katara catches a nearby clock and sees that she literally has one minute before her own class starts, so she picks up her pace and enters the small auditorium her class is being held in.

It's nearly packed. The students are already situated in their seats, either chatting, typing, or texting away while the professor gathers her paperwork up front.

Katara peeks at the first few rows and doesn't spot a single empty seat. The only vacant seats _near_ the front are ones in the middle of the middle row—she'd have to try and squeeze her way through at least six people before she'd be able to sit.

“Quiet down,” Professor Zhuyi says, her authoritative voice bringing a halt to all conversation.

Katara cusses under her breath. She rather not draw attention to herself now that class has officially started and she's the only student without a seat.

_Guess I have to sit at the back today._

The last few rows are basically empty, save for the occasional disinterested student either sleeping or on their phone.

She sighs and sits in an aisle seat, near no one.

“Good morning, everyone. We'll start with attendance.”

Roll call only takes a minute or two. Katara shyly raises her hand when her name is called, embarrassed that she's all the way in the back.

She never sits in the back. She prides herself in being the student who is always up front. She's always participating, and she always knows the teacher and they always know her.

This is brand new territory.

 _Relax_ , she chides herself. _This is only for today._

And with that thought calming her mind, she goes about class as she normally does. She attentively listens to the lecture—although it's a bit hard to hear in the back row—and she diligently takes notes, her hand moving swiftly over her notebook. When the professor grants the class a five-minute break, she highlights important terms and information she'll go back and study later.

Rather than returning to the lecture once the break is over, Professor Zhuyi pulls out a sheet of paper and says, “I have an assignment for you all.”

Hushed moans and groans sound all around the auditorium.

“It’s a paper that you will write with one other person.”

The air fills with a buzz of interested chatter.

Katara looks around. She doesn't know anyone in this class.

“However.” Professor Zhuyi holds a finger up and waits for the class to quiet down. “You do not get to choose. I've done that for you.”

The moans and groans come back.

_Oh._

“I've emailed you all the requirements for the paper. You will be writing about your experiences with cultures that are your own, and any others you have come across. I hope this paper will allow you all to learn more about each other, and how other people live. Keep an open mind and remember, the most important part of this paper is that you learn from _each other_.”

A jolt of excitement zips through Katara. She loves talking about her home, her traditions, her people. This is all thanks to growing up with a grandmother who instilled Water Tribe culture into her from a young age. It created a love and an appreciation for her heritage that not many people her age have. Even Sokka isn't as knowledgeable as she is when it comes to their culture.

“I'm going to call out the pairings. Listen for your name.” Professor Zhuyi takes a breath then starts listing off names.

Katara pays attention to each name the professor says, hers not yet mentioned.

“...and Jhen. Katara and Zuko…”

Katara’s ears prick up. She's working with Zuko. Zuko… Zuko…

_Why does that name sound so familiar?_

_“_ And Taidana and Huan. Okay, that's everyone. I hope you listened for your name and your partner. I'll give you ten minutes to get acquainted with your partner, if you aren't already.”

The shuffling starts as students get up to sit next to their partners.

Katara stretches her neck from her seat as she glances around the room, trying to see if she recognizes anyone as a Zuko.

She spots a guy sitting by himself, arms crossed and his head down, his face partially covered by his hair. _Is_ _that him?_

Suddenly there's a tap on her shoulder. She spins around and comes face to… well, torso, with a guy in a slim, red hoodie.

“You're Katara, right?” he asks. His voice has a slight rasp to it.

Katara blinks and looks up. “Yes.” _How'd he know?_

He pulls an earbud out of his ear. “I'm Zuko.”

_Wait. The teacher calls roll. That's probably how he knows who I am._

Zuko is standing there and Katara realizes he said something, she just wasn't paying attention. “You must be Zuko,” she says as a conversation starter.

A brief look of confusion crosses Zuko’s features. “Yeah, I just said that.”

“Oh! Uh.” Katara’s eyes are downcast as she studies her shoes, hoping to mask the embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Nice to meet you.”

_This is so awkward._

Zuko nods. “Same here.” He points to the seat next to her. “Can I sit?”

“Yes!” Katara says with a little too much enthusiasm. She moves her legs to the side so Zuko can slide past and take a seat next to her.

Katara notices a lot more about him now that he's so close. He has really striking amber eyes, but they're sort of hidden underneath the black hair that hangs over his forehead. He also has a very prominent scar over the left side of his face. The skin is red and marred but the wound doesn't look fresh. It seems to be a few years old, having healed but not well. It's kind of fascinating to look at, actually.

 _Annnd_ she's staring at him.

Zuko says nothing, but his taut body language says enough.

_He can probably tell I'm staring at his scar. That's so rude of me, I should say sorry—_

“So, the paper,” Zuko prompts _,_ his shoulders unwinding.

“The paper. Yes,” Katara responds slowly. “Um. Let's exchange numbers and emails so we can contact each other.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Katara angles her notebook towards him and holds out her pen. He takes it from her and writes down his phone number and email on the corner of the paper. His earbud dangles from around his ear as he hunches over, pen flowing crisply across the page.

“Here.” He hands her the notebook, a flash of gold catching her eye as his sleeve draws up.  

“Thanks,” she says as she accepts it, eyeing his surprisingly neat handwriting. Given his almost tailored scruffiness—with his barely combed black hair and lax stance—it is almost as if he is deliberately putting up a show of apathy.

Zuko holds his phone out for her to take. “You can put your email in the box under the number.”

Katara takes the phone from his grasp. She types out her number and her email and gives him his phone back.

“Five minutes,” Professor Zhuyi announces.

Zuko pockets his phone. “I should head back to my seat.”

“Okay,” Katara says. “I'll text you.”

“Yup.” Zuko gets up and moves past Katara. She watches as he walks back to his seat, which turns out to be a row behind her.

She mentally face palms herself.

That was probably the worst first introduction she's ever been a part of.

“This should be a fun paper,” Katara mutters to herself sarcastically.

She takes a deep breath to clear her thoughts and refocus.

Then her phone vibrates.

She reaches in the side pocket of her bookbag and pulls it out, reading the notification on the screen.

[10:56a Suki] Where r you, my darling Kat?

A grin breaks out across her face. Suki can always make her smile.

[10:56a] In class :/ Why, what's up?

[10:57a Suki] Aw. I wanna grab some brunch with u. I miss ya!

[10:57a] Brunch? So fancy, haha. I'm only in class for 30-ish more minutes. Wait for me?

[10:58a Suki] Only the best for my girl. Ya, of course I'll wait for u. Meet me at Bake Away?

Katara’s stomach grumbles. She ran out of her dorm so fast this morning she didn't get a chance to eat breakfast.

[10:58a] Yes! I'll see you there

She finds herself rejuvenated for the rest of the class.

\---

A tiny bell announces Katara’s arrival when she walks in Bake Away. It's a cute little shop, with pink walls and white furniture with lace trims hanging off the tables. An adorable, delicious paradise.

A warm waft of air carrying the pleasant smell of fresh baked bread blows across her face and she welcomes the scent, breathing it in with satisfaction.

“Kat!” Suki exclaims, waving an arm to attract her attention. She’s sitting on a stool by the window, the sun illuminating her like a spotlight.

Katara walks over, pulls out the stool across from her and sits down, shrugging off her bookbag and setting it on the floor underneath the table.

“Hi!” Suki smiles brightly. She has her hands palm up on the table, fingers wiggling.

Katara laughs, places her hands on top of Suki’s, and clasps them together. “Hi! How are you?”

“I'm good! I have way too much homework for it only to be the second week of the semester, but yeah, I'm good,” Suki says. “How are you? How was class?”

“I'm good. Class was…” Katara pauses, trying to think of an adjective to describe the mess of her morning. “Well, it was interesting. We got an assignment today.”

Suki lets go of her hands and makes a face. “Ugh, homework. What’s the assignment?”

“A partnered paper.”

“Oh?” Suki raises an eyebrow. “Do you know who you’re working with?”

Katara mindlessly stares out the window, watching the people bustle past.  “Some guy named Zuko.”

Suki gasps. “ _Zuko_? The Fire Nation prince, Zuko?”

“Uh.” Katara draws her eyebrows together. “I guess that's him. Maybe that's why his name sounded so familiar.”

“How many Zuko’s do you know?”

“None.”

“Exactly. It has to be him. Did he have black hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Golden eyes?” Suki asks.

“Yeah.”

“Then it's him.”

Katara scoffs. “You just described the majority of people from the Fire Nation.”

Suki laughs. “I'm just going off of what the girls in my club gossip about. I've never actually met him.”

“You're not missing much,” Katara says, still a little bitter about their awkward encounter.

“I hear his face is like, completely disfigured now. No one knows why.”

Zuko's scar flashes across her mind. “No.” Katara shakes her head and her braid swings back and forth behind her. “No, he only has a scar. His face is fine, otherwise.”

“It's _fine_ , you say?” Suki nudges Katara’s foot with her own under the table, teasing her.

“Not like that!” Katara waves her hands frantically. “I meant his face is _okay_ , as far as, faces go… You know. Like, he still has all his features. I wasn't complimenting his appearance...” she explains, her voice lowering in volume with each word that pours from her mouth.

Suki just looks at her, mouth lifted in a playful smirk. “Sure, Kat.”

“I have twelve assorted macarons.” Their conversation halts when a server appears at their table. He sets the plate of macarons down between them. “I'll be back with your drinks.”

“Thank you,” Suki says as the server retreats.

“Yum.” Katara reaches for one immediately, too hungry to search for her favorite flavor: which is matcha, by the way.

“I ordered us coconut milk tea, too,” Suki informs her, munching on a macaron.

“You’re the best,” Katara says behind her hand, covering her mouth full of chewed food. “What did Sokka do to deserve you?”

Suki chuckles. “He’s a great boyfriend.”

“Maybe so, but he's an annoying brother.” Katara snaps her fingers. “Guess what he did last week!”

“He invited you over to cook sea prune stew,” Suki finishes her thought, already aware of what had happened.

“He invited me over to _cook_ \- oh.” Katara’s vigor dies quickly. “Yeah, how'd you know?”

“He told me. He also said you brought your new roommate over.” Suki wipes her mouth, clearing away any sticky, stubborn crumbs. “How's that going?”

“It's going well!” Their milk tea has arrived in two tall glasses. “Toph hasn't given me any trouble and I like to think I haven't bothered her either.”

“That’s good.” Suki takes a sip of her drink. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She clicked with Aang and Sokka pretty well. I think you’ll get along. Toph’s pretty tough, like you.”

Suki laughs lightly. “You think I’m tough?”

“Tough, as in, you can kick anyone’s butt,” Katara says. “I admire that about you.”

“Aw.” Suki smiles. “You’re tough too. In more ways than one.”

Katara smiles back but it doesn’t reach her eyes in the way it usually does. “Thanks.”

Suki grabs Katara’s arm when she reaches for another macaron. “You know what we should do this weekend?”

Katara’s arm is frozen under Suki’s grasp. She gives her friend a curious look. “What should we do?”

“We should go to a party! You, me, Sokka, Aang, and Toph.” Suki releases Katara’s arm and pushes some of her short-cropped brown hair behind her ear. “It’ll be so fun!”

“Oh.” Katara is hesitant. “I don’t know if Toph is into… partying.”

Suki shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Katara opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is: “I…” She presses her lips into a thin line, not knowing how to articulate her feelings.

“What’s wrong?” Suki wears a look of concern.

“I don’t know if _I_ want to go out,” Katara says, picking up her drink.

“Is something bothering you?” Suki asks.

Katara gulps the tea and sets her drink down. “No.” She licks her lips.

A flat expression and a “Kat, c’mon” from Suki has Katara spilling her guts.

“Okay, it’s just… I don’t know how comfortable I am with parties now. Ever since the whole Jet situation—”

“The biggest douchebag ever,” Suki interjects.

“—I just… I feel super uncomfortable. I feel like everyone is judging me.” Katara rests her cheek in her palm. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Katara,” Suki says. “Look at me.”

Suki’s use of Katara’s full name seizes her attention. She grants her friend with eye contact.

“Don’t blame yourself for what happened with Jet. You did nothing wrong.”

Katara scoffs with resentment. “I trusted him,” she mumbles.

“There’s nothing wrong with trusting your boyfriend. You’re _supposed_ to trust him,” Suki tells her. “Jet was a manipulative piece of shit and he betrayed your trust. No one can judge you for that. You’re better off without him.”

Katara nods and closes her eyes, willing herself not to cry. She cried too many tears over him – tears he did not deserve.

“I know how to pick ‘em, huh?” she jokes, letting out a watery giggle.

Suki smiles. “You know better now. Let’s leave him in the past.” She holds up her hand. “New year, new beginnings. Right?”

Katara slaps her palm against Suki’s. “Right.”

“So does that mean you’ll go out with us this weekend?” Suki’s eyes are expectant.

“Maybe,” Katara says. Suki gives her the look of a puppy who was just kicked. “Hey, don't give me that face! I'm going to have a lot of homework to finish this weekend!”

“Okay, okay,” Suki sighs. “I'll stop bothering you about it.”

“Thank you.”

“For now,” Suki adds, pointing at her.

Katara laughs.

\---

It’s an early Wednesday afternoon, two days after her Cultural Studies class, when Katara decides to contact Zuko to go over their paper in person so they can discuss what they’ll talk about.

His response is not what she had in mind.

“Is he _serious_?!” Katara shouts. She throws her phone on her bed and hastily unzips her bookbag and pulls her laptop out, flinging it open.

Her shout must’ve caught Toph’s attention because she pushes her headphones down so they can rest around her neck and asks, “Are you okay?”

Katara is typing furiously. “My partner is an ass,” she says, mouth tugged down as she scowls at her laptop screen.

“What happened?”

In a few clicks Katara has her email open and lo and behold, his email with the very descriptive topic _“Paper”_ is sitting pretty at the top of her inbox. She opens the email and reads the lackluster message Zuko included:

_“My half of the paper is attached._

_\- Z”_

“Why would he— just— _ugh!_ ” Katara groans in frustration.

“Hey! Earth to Katara!” Toph snaps her fingers in an attempt to get her attention. “What are you complaining about?”

“My partner! My partner for this class I take, we’re supposed to write a paper _together_ and he just went ahead and did it himself!”

There’s a pinch between Toph’s eyebrows. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No!” Katara exclaims. “I wanted to meet in person so we could talk about what we were going to write and actually, you know, be _partners_ , but he refused!”

“He told you he doesn’t want to meet with you?”

“He didn’t say he doesn’t _want_ to meet, he—” Katara stops mid-sentence to reach for her phone. “Hold on.” She pulls up the text conversation with Zuko and hands the phone to Toph. “Here, read this.”

Toph lets Katara’s phone hang in the space between their beds. “Take a minute to realize what you just told me to do.” 

A moment passes before Katara understands what Toph is talking about. “Sorry, Toph.” She lets out a sigh. “I’ll read them.” 

“That’s better.”

“Okay, so I said: ‘Hey, it’s Katara from Cultural Studies. I was wondering if you wanted to meet later today to discuss the paper.’ And he said: ‘Can’t meet. Finished my part of the paper. Emailed you.’” Katara sets down her phone with a huff. “Can you believe him?”

“Yeah I can, actually.” Toph shrugs. “I don't get why you're so angry. Maybe he's busy.”

Katara refocuses on her laptop, double-clicking the attachment to open it. “I'm not angry, it's just annoying. I have no idea what he wrote about. Now I have to proofread _and_ write around what he wrote to bring the paper together.” She rubs at her temples. “I have a headache.”

“Relax! Have some faith in the guy,” Toph says. “At least he did it.”

“It won't matter that he did it if I get a bad grade.” Katara closes her laptop and returns it to her bag. “My grades are important to me.” She slides her notebook in. “Not everyone has rich parents.”

She freezes.

_Did I really just say that?_

Toph doesn't say anything.

“Toph, I didn't mean—” Katara’s apology is cut short when Toph slips her headphones over her ears. She ducks her head a bit, her bangs falling over her eyes.

Katara zips her bookbag and stands up. “I'm going to the library,” she attempts to tell Toph but it's to no avail—she gets no response.

 _I’ll talk to her when I come back,_ Katara thinks, shutting the door behind her.

 

The library isn't very full when Katara arrives. And while she usually can't find an empty seat, she has no trouble finding an entire vacant table in the study area. There's only two other students in proximity—a girl, obnoxiously popping her bubblegum and typing on her laptop, and a boy, twirling a pen between his fingers.

Of course, the free space probably has to do with it being so early in the term, but Katara is grateful nonetheless.

As she sits down, she thinks about Toph. Now that her frustration is ebbing away, guilt is taking over. Why did she say that? That comment was so uncalled for! It just slipped out in a moment of exasperation and by the time she realized what she said it was too late to take it back.

 _Maybe I'll bring her back a snack as a peace offering,_ Katara thinks, waking up her laptop. Zuko’s attachment is open in a word document, ready to be read over.

Katara braces her mind and begins reading his alleged experiences.

The first few paragraphs are all about the Fire Nation, where he was born, the different districts, the traditions, the holidays, the languages, he even touches on the nation’s royal history and their descent into nominal leaders. He lists all of the previous Fire Lords and Fire Ladies in succession all the way to the present: Fire Lord Ozai.

 _Is that his father?_ Katara ponders.

Katara has never been to the Fire Nation and she didn't learn much about it in school—save for the superficial facts like: “The Fire Nation is very warm”—so all of this new information has her engrossed. She can almost imagine herself there, it is written so well, and in so much depth. With the air of indifference Zuko put on in the lecture, she didn’t expect him to put so much effort in.

The next two paragraphs are about the Earth Kingdom. It's obvious that Zuko is not as well-versed in the Earth Kingdom like he is about the Fire Nation, but that's to be expected, given the fact he wasn’t born here. Still, it seems that he knows a decent amount, from what she knows of the Earth Kingdom in her short time studying here and from what Toph tells her.

He has travelled to other regions outside of Ba Sing Se too, if his notes are anything to go by. Places like Omashu—the second capital of the Earth Kingdom—and even Kyoshi Island.

 _What on earth would make a prince of the Fire Nation go there_? she muses silently.

She thought Zuko visiting Kyoshi Island was slightly weird, but when he delves into the Western Air Temple, Katara can't believe him.

“There's no way,” Katara mutters under her breath as she reads his account. Apparently him _and_ his Uncle ventured to the temple together on a two-day hiking trip.

“It was unlike anything I'd ever seen,” Katara reads quietly. “The temple is on the underside of a cliff and all of the buildings are… _upside down?!_ There's no way he went there.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Is he trying to make himself look good or something?”

Katara reaches for her phone and dials Aang’s number. She'd believe Aang, an actual, cultured, born and bred airbender, over Zuko any day.

“Hello?” Aang answers on the third ring. He sounds distracted.

“Hi, Aang,” Katara says. “I have a quick question.”

“Katara! Hey!” Aang’s voice is much louder now, way more lively. Katara has to hold the phone away from her ear. “What's up?”

“The Western Air Temple,” she begins, cutting to the chase. “Is it true that it's upside down?”

“Oh, wow. Wasn't expecting this sort of question.” Aang laughs lightly, but it's a ‘ _I’m sort of nervous but trying to play it off_ ’ kind of laugh. “Um, but yeah, the Western Air Temple was built underneath a cliff, so because of that, it looks like it's hanging upside down.”

 _No way,_ Katara says in her head. _Zuko wasn't lying._

“It's the only temple like it. Super cool, right?” Aang asks and Katara can hear the smile in his voice. “I can't wait to see it in person.”

Her eyebrows raise. “You've never been?”

“Nope. It's the only temple I've never visited.” Aang sighs. “It's the farthest temple from where I live, but I'm definitely going.”

“Where is it?”

“On an island north of the Fire Nation.”

Katara hums her understanding. _Close to Zuko._

“ _Oh!_ You know what would be really fun?” Aang asks.

His excitement makes Katara smile. “What?”

“You, me, and Sokka, all taking a trip to the Western Air Temple together. It'd be so cool. Sokka would love the ingenuity, you would love the scenery, it'd be great. We could camp underneath the stars, hike along the mountains—"

“Aang,” Katara interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“That sounds amazing but I can't stay on the phone for long. I'm in the library.”

“Oh, sorry!” Aang apologizes. “I'll let you go!”

“Okay, we'll talk later,” Katara says, about to hang up.

“Yup, talk to you later—oh wait! Momo says hi!”

She giggles. “Tell Momo I said hi, too.”

“I will. Bye!”

Katara ends the call feeling defeated. She was _so_ sure Zuko hadn't seen the air temple that it leaves her with an unpleasant taste in her mouth now that she knows she was mistaken.

But is she so wrong for thinking it? She knows it's never good to make assumptions, but if she had to imagine a world traveller, he is not the type of person who'd appear in her mind. He just looks like someone who doesn't have a care in the world—and not in the “fun and easy-going” way, either. Sure, he's a prince and he might have the funds to go wherever he wants, but Katara has heard too many stories of spoiled, close-minded rich kids to give Zuko the benefit of the doubt.

Nevertheless, as it turns out, that’s not the case for Zuko. He’s certainly well-travelled—even more so than she is.

Katara is resolute. So what? She can write a paper that's as equally as interesting as his.

On that note, she begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank the awesome ML8991 for helping me out and listening to me talk in circles.
> 
> And I want to thank _you_ for reading and supporting the story! See you next chapter!


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